I’m in a weird frame of mind today. The writing is going slowly–I’m coming to the end of a novel, and I always struggle with climax scenes and endings. I worry that I won’t do them justice.
The other thing on my mind today is my father’s birthday. He’s turning seventy. Seventy is a rather prestigious number. We can kid ourselves about sixty–sixty’s not really old, right? But you really can’t do that with seventy. That’s getting up there. And then again I start to think about endings, and wondering how long I’ll have with my dad around before he moves on to other worlds. I’m thankful that I come from a long-lived family; my grandfather died at age eighty-eight. But I can’t help but think that time has become limited. It has to be cherished now, every day.
I suppose on the other hand that thanks once again to the Baby Boomers, as a society we’re better able to accept that even as people grow older, they’re still contributing to society. Case in point: look how good Jane Fonda still looks. Not to mention the fact George Lucas is planning yet another Star Wars movie with the original actors. How old is Harrison Ford again?
So I can feel good in knowing that while I may not like endings, nobody else really does either. Let the show go on, I suppose!
10079 / 100000 words. 10% done!